


Learning Curve

by LearnedFoot



Series: Peter/Tony Ficlets and Drabbles [26]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Bad Sex, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Premature Ejaculation, Resurrected Tony Stark, Rimming, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/pseuds/LearnedFoot
Summary: The first time Peter and Tony have sex, it does not go particularly well.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Peter/Tony Ficlets and Drabbles [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1419445
Comments: 27
Kudos: 202
Collections: Battleship 2020, Battleship 2020 - Ocean Witch, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team





	Learning Curve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tuesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/gifts).



The first time Peter and Tony have sex—which is also the first time they kiss, hell, the first time they come close to admitting out loud how much they want each other—it does not go particularly well.

More accurately, they don’t actually _have sex_ , because Tony comes before his dick even breaches Peter’s hole. Just a big ol’ glob of anticlimax. Okay, technically it’s still a climax, but not a very climatic climax. You get his drift.

“Um,” he says, rolling off Peter and just barely resisting the urge to literally hide his face under his arm. “I don’t want to pull the ‘I’m not normally this guy,’ card, but...I’m not normally this guy.”

He’d blame it on the aftereffects of the Asgardian mead he’d downed at Thor’s birthday celebrations earlier that night, but he damn well knows that’s not it. The mead is why he’d thought agreeing to Peter’s request to come back to his penthouse was a good idea, but they’ve watched a whole _Star Wars_ movie since then, and Tony sobered up around the second act. The mead isn’t even an excuse for allowing himself to kiss Peter, let along an explanation for why his dick isn’t working.

Peter, god bless him, does his best to hide his disappointment, grabbing Tony’s hand and saying, all sweet and earnest, “It’s okay, Mr. Stark, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Even that tiny bit of contact is enough to make Tony’s nerves sing, thrilling at Peter’s touch. Or—

Wait just one god damn minute.

Maybe it’s thrilling at _any_ touch. Not that he isn’t especially thrilled to be touching Peter, but this is the first time he’s taken this new body for a spin with anyone other than his own hand. Which—first off, kudos to himself for not dwelling on that fun fact before now. He barely noticed, actually. Clearly, he’s a changed man. Or maybe he was simply too distracted by the dying and the resurrection and the discovering his life was turned inside out and, oh yeah, suddenly finding himself unbearably attracted to someone who was sixteen two seconds ago but is now twenty and so hot it hurts.

Doesn’t matter. Forget that tangent. The important point here is that clearly the problem is this body needs some breaking in. It may _look_ exactly the same, but obviously it’s not used to touch.

Great. Fine. That’s squared away then.

He turns to Peter with a confident smirk, running his hand up his thigh and nudging his cock. “I can’t leave you hanging, kid. How about I take care of this a different way?”

Peter’s smile gets a lot broader as he nods.

***

Tony wanted to get a taste of Peter’s ass, so he gets a taste of Peter’s ass—just in a more literal sense than originally intended.

The good news is his tongue retained all it’s old tricks. And while licking Peter’s hole until he squirms in pleasure might not be the same as pounding him into the mattress, Peter still rips the sheets from clutching them too hard when he comes, so Tony’s going to call this part of the night a roaring success.

***

Tony assumes one time is enough to break the new body in. He expects to be in tip-top performance shape when he throws Peter across a lab desk three days later, after fifteen awkward minutes of pretending things can possibly go back to normal between them.

It was a bad assumption.

***

“I’m _sorry_ ,” he says after he— _again—_ fails to even get to the fucking. He has never apologized about sex this much in his life.

“It’s fine,” Peter assures him. Then, biting his lip in a way that is too clumsy to be seductive but adorable enough that it winds up in the same place, he adds, “You know, I really liked what we did last time...”

(Tony really liked what they did last time, too, so that works out okay.)

***

They’ve progressed to going on a date—some cheap pizza place in Queens, because Peter insists on paying (“Officially, I asked you, which means I pay,” he explained when they made the plans, which is so sweet it makes Tony ache to think about)—before things in bed get to the point that Tony has to admit his incompetent dick is an actual, ongoing problem.

Third time’s the charm, after all. Or, in this case, the opposite of the charm.

“I know this is going to sound like I’m making excuses, but I think it’s because of my resurrection,” he says, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling after making sure Peter is thoroughly taken care of in other ways. “This body hasn’t had a lot of...practice. With stimulation. From other people.”

Yep, definitely sounds like an excuse. But rather than calling him out on it, or, worse, patronizingly pretending to agree, Peter lights up.

“Oh!” he exclaims, propping himself on his elbows to give Tony the full blaze of his delighted grin. “You’re overstimulated. That makes so much sense.”

“Why does that seem to make you happy?” Tony is trying really hard not to be insulted right now. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m under the impression that as much as you enjoy me eating you out, you do actually want to fuck at some point.”

He doesn’t add that he sure _hopes_ Peter still wants to fuck, because while he’d be happy to make Peter come on his tongue every day for the rest of his life, his premature orgasms have been a less than amazing experience on a personal level. Don’t get him wrong: being with Peter, in any way, is incredible. But can’t he be selfish enough to _also_ want incredible orgasms on top of that?

“Yeah, of course.” Peter sits up taller. He’s buzzing with the manic energy he always gets at the start of an exciting project. “But you’re talking to the king of overstimulation. Senses dialed to eleven, remember? Do you have any idea how long it took me to get to the point where I could do _anything_ without coming in the first five seconds?”

Tony does not have any idea. He’s never thought about it before, and he was a bit incapacitated during the period Peter learned that particular lesson. “I’ve seen you. You definitely last for more than five seconds now.”

Peter nods enthusiastically. “I can, and you will, too. We just have to practice.”

With a gentleness that’s starling in contrast to his bubbling excitement, he runs a single finger down the center of Tony’s chest, watching as he shivers at the contact. Then he goes lower, over Tony’s stomach, tracing the hair there, finally settling at the base of his cock. “What do you say, trust me to teach you?”

Oh, hell yeah. This, Tony can get behind.

***

On their one-month anniversary—which they celebrate, because Peter is still a college student and that means sometimes they do things like celebrate one-month anniversaries—they finally manage to fuck.

(It goes spectacularly well.)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is loved (including any typos you catch...I wrote a lot in the last few weeks, I imagine there are some.)
> 
> This was originally written for an exchange, and re-dated for author reveals. I'm sorry if you've seen it already.


End file.
